


Agent of Mercy

by CactusHugger



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, Deus Ex Machina, F/M, Feel-good, Happy Ending, Heartwarming, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusHugger/pseuds/CactusHugger
Summary: Fan sequel to Dimensions 2, 3 and Onwards that retcons the original ending and gives a different ending instead.*SPOILER ALERT. THIS SUMMARY SPOILS ENDING FOR ORIGINAL STORY.*A merciful high-ranking SCP Agent makes an appeal to the Council to use SCP-318 to revive the dead SCP-85 so she can have a happy life with SCP-507.
Relationships: SCP-507/SCP-85
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: The original broke my heart to the extent that I felt compelled to create a story that was too ridiculously deus ex machina.  
> Incredibly silly and out of character. I'm grateful I can at least post it somewhere. 
> 
> Embarrassingly enough, I tried to push this onto the official site. As if the Foundation based entirely on horror and the greater good would ever accept something this cheery. 
> 
> If you haven't read the original story, Dimensions 2, 3 and Onward, please do so. It's a gut-wrenching masterpiece.
> 
> 5/8/2020 UPDATE: I do not expect this to get popular, nor do I care for popularity. I had zero intention on continuing this story beyond a cathartic fan-sequel, but then I got more ideas and this has now become a completely self-indulgent AU, Deus Ex Machina, overly cheery, upbeat and romantic fanfiction that I might continue for my own bizarre tastes. 
> 
> Not a terrible way to pass the time during a quarantine, I'd say.

**The Agent of Mercy**

“Back so soon?” The man with the impossible smile asked of John, specified SCP-507. His breathy voice firmly wrapped itself around John's ear before worming it's way into his brain, now eternally burrowed within.

“C-Cassy.” John panted beneath his breath.

“Gone.” The Smiling Man stated.

John then leapt to his feet, putting distance between himself and the Smiling Man.

Even in the pitch darkness that was the slaughterhouse of his dearest companion, John could see the Smiling Man's face, at least in mind.

John put his hand on the gun he had been assigned, violently shaking.

In a swift motion of which he did not think himself capable, he drew it and fired at the Smiling Man. Even if they were just rubber bullets, he knew that causing at least a smidgen of pain to this man-whom John knew in body and soul to be the one who perpetuated Cassy's murder-would at the very least ease the unfathomable beast that had now taken the throne of his soul. That beast was known to humanity as Vengeance.

It felt good, each recoil of his pistol. As a skinny man, his very skeleton seemed to rattle with each shot, but god, did it feel good.

_Click._

He tossed the gun to the ground and took out his flashlight. He knew he'd enjoy this. He charged to the Smiling Man, his hand wildly flailing for purchase for any inch of his body. He had violent thoughts in mind. Many, many violent thoughts. John would irrigate this pitch black hellhole with the brown liquids that was this man's blood.

His fingers settling nicely around a lapel, he raised his flashlight, his knuckles likely whiter than the death canvas that permanently seared a second loss into his retinas. He swung, screaming.

  
  


And then he shifted again. Back into his private quarters. In mid swing, he stumbled, his rage-fueled adrenaline allowing him to quickly regain balance.

In a daze, he felt sudden confusion at the loss of his prey. But with a glance or two at his new environment, the realization settled.

He was alone again, without satisfaction. Just like with the perfect woman from that perfect world. A chance at happiness, torn from him by this curse.

This time, his happiness was stolen from him by unknowable figures who colluded with that accursed Smiling Man.

His grip tightened around the flashlight. Without thinking, he hurled it into the wall, sending glass shards flying and sprinkling. The metal casing landed with a dull clang. This felt good, but it wasn't enough.

He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. He then felt Cassy's drawing pad in his pocket.

Empty. Lifeless. Dead.

He held it before him, looking at the empty page. No Cassy. No body armor. No grassy field. No hope.

_What's your name? I don't want to call you SCP-507._

The ire that was the dam for his eyes had vanished, unleashing the flood. He wept loudly, the sound echoing in his small room and ricocheting back into his own eardrums.

_I promise I won't laugh. Honest._

_It's uh, John._

His sobs momentarily stumbled upon a small sound that resembled laughter, albeit deprived of all mirth.

“SCP-507?” A male voice accompanied a knock on the door to John's room.

John said nothing.

“SCP-507, please open the door. I can hear you. Now that you've returned from your shift, I must document it.”

Reluctantly and slowly, John rose to his feet. With the weight of his heart on his shoulders, he opened the door.

“What's wrong?” asked the Agent.

John almost snapped out of it when he heard the genuine human compassion in the Agent's voice. And then it all rushed back upon him, spiraling him back to that grassy field. To that nightmarish nightfall. Cassy was a threat, apparently. How? And to who?

The Agent patiently waited for the waves of salty sadness to end, but it seemed as though they wouldn't. These waves were nigh bottomless. He then noticed the drawing pad that SCP-507 was clutching so tightly.

“May I please see that?” The Agent reached to it.

John had enough sense to comply.

“Thank you,” the Agent said as he took the drawing pad. He examined it closely and immediately recognized it as the drawing pad for Cassandra, designated SCP-85.

“SCP-507, is this…?” He trailed off as a tactic to get John to speak. Maybe he could settle down enough after that for the mandatory interview.

“C-Cassy-" John spoke between sobbing gasps. “-they took her. They killed her.”

“Who are they?” The Agent asked.

“They crushed us into a box and then they killed her. I shifted during a containment breach and I was holding her pad. She became 3-D when we shifted together and we walked down a field together. And-" he broke into loud sobs again. “They were black like shadows and-"

_Get us out of here!_

John ran to the Agent and embraced him tightly. To his surprise, the need for comfort was reciprocated.

“Black like a shadow?” The Agent asked, stroking John's hair.

John nodded against his chest.

“How long was this shift?” The Agent asked, the gentleness of his voice soothing John in a way few other Agents could.

“I don't know,” John felt the pad pressed against him in the embrace. He then pulled away and reached for it. Astonishingly, the Agent allowed him to clutch it tightly once more.

“You two bonded quite a bit then, did you?” The Agent whispered.

John said nothing, only wept.

The Agent looked thoughtful for a moment. He had an idea, but would it work?

He gazed sympathetically at the broken, weeping man. He had closely followed John's case and knew about his first bout of separation with someone be deeply cared for.

Figures like shadows…?

The Agent frowned. That definitely rung a bell. Too many bells. He had launched an investigation on sightings of beings such as those not too long ago. It went cold, but now that another witness-

A particularly loud wail from John snapped the Agent from his thoughts. His thoughtfulness then led to anger, which he freely allowed himself to feel, but rarely to express.

How he wished he could aid in helping the more ‘innocent' SCPs obtain some relief from their woes. Every idea he ever, had followed as few as the Foundations protocols as possible. Not wanting to risk containment breaches or something worse, he always refrained from enacting any of his ideas.

Then he smiled. This Agent didn't play by the rules like most of the others did, however. Where rules roamed, loopholes laughed.

“I think I know a way that we can bring her back.” The Agent put a hand on his shoulder.

“No you can't.” John gasped in between a sob.

The Agent gave John a gentle squeeze. “It’s just a hunch, but it's something. This will be an extremely long shot, but I think I can make a convincing appeal.”

“What kind of appeal?” John felt trickles of hope in his heart.

“To bring her back. It needs to be done in no less than six hours, however. Come with me.” The Agent started down the hall without another word in order to subtly force John to follow.

And follow, he did. Down a winding maze of weaving paths here and there; this included Cassy's room where she was earlier. In her body armor pacing back and forth frantically.

He stopped for a moment, looking longingly at the door.

“Hey!” The Agent called for John, who jogged up to him.

At last, they turned one more corner and entered a room.

John wasn't completely sure on what to expect; perhaps something grand and imposing. Not something as simple as an office with personnel seated at ordinary tables.

“Agent Egrene?” One of the Council addressed the Agent that was with John.

“Cassy is dead. Murdered by mysterious entities described as black figures that resembled shadows. Subject SCP-507 has yet to fully disclose on his experience with them. I will interrogate him soon, but first I must make an appeal.” Agent Egrene ushered John inside, who still clutched the drawing pad. “I wish to use SCP-318 to bring her back.”

SCP-318? John had never heard any mention on such a device. Still, considering the track record of the Foundation, if absolute tragedies were allowed with impunity, perhaps the same could be said about miracles.

"SCP-85? Dead?" The Agent raised an eyebrow.

Agent Egrene then signed a message. John cursed his inability to read sign language.

“Allow us some time to think on that. Don't worry. We will make the decision before the supposed effective time runs out.” The Council Agent answered.

“Thank you,” Agent Egrene ushered John out before any of the Council members could confiscate the pad.

“One more thing, Egrene,” The Council Agent added, “There was once contemplation on the idea of her termination. Should we agree to it, this Cassandra's death may very well be dismissed.”

Agent Egrene stopped dead in his tracks.

“Excuse me for a moment, John.” Agent Egrene motioned to the cafeteria. “I'll meet up with you there.” Agent Egrene's face was blank and calm, yet his eyelids were near imperceptibly raised and strained in a subtle portrayal of what John could only recognize as anger. Mostly, the bulging vein was the biggest giveaway.

Even though John knew the gaze wasn't directed at him, he felt his blood run cold and he obeyed.

Near-absolute silence permeated the cafeteria and drilled itself into his ears. He spent most of the time sitting and staring at the empty drawing pad.

The quiet of the cafeteria intermingled with the blank page in front of him was gnawing at his very being. Even the ticking of the clock couldn't break this thick heavy cloud.

He decided to break it by tracing his finger across the paper. This weak ASMR was but a feeble attempt at easing his nerves; the sound of his fingertip lightly dragging across paper did nothing to calm him.

How long did he have to wait?

Did time even matter anymore?

John closed his eyes for a moment to listen to the clock.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

He laid his head on Cassy's drawing pad and tried to steady his breathing.

When Agent Egrene shook him awake, he couldn't remember when he'd fallen asleep.

His cheeks was firmly planted on the blank drawing pad. Thankfully he didn't drool on it.

“The appeal has been made. Now we wait.” He took a seat beside John, who stretched and rubbed the grogginess from his eyes.

“Do you think they'll approve it?” John tried in vain to fight the hope rising in his chest.

“Now we wait,” the Agent repeated. “Now tell me everything that happened on your end.”

His answer did not satisfy John, but he complied.

“I was in a different Foundation. Site-17. The alarms were ringing and there were screams but no bodies. I knew I had to get away, but I can't explain it.” He shook his head. “I saw Cassy's room and I let curiosity get the better of me. I found her and I took her with me." He stopped to make eye contact with Agent Egrene.

His eyes did not show the monotonous, blank business-like glossy gaze that was just a trait every other Agents shared. John thought he recognized genuine compassion. They seemed to sparkle as though they longed to share their tears with you.

John barely trusted it, but who else would talk to him right now?

“I offered to take her with me. I don't know what I was thinking. It just came out.” John laughed, surprised at how naturally he smiled.

“I'll make that appeal as well.” The Agent firmly promised. “And I'll make damn sure I get it through.”

John frowned. “How the hell could you do that?”

“You don't believe me and you think I'm just a heartless bastard who would willingly dissect you at a moment's notice, just like how they did to that other instance of you. You think maybe I'm doing this just to trick you into being just a little happy.” The Agent's words had a tinge of sass to them, strangely. "I have no reason to trick you into believing I could bring Cassy back. She's classified as Safe, therefore I can make an appeal that the Council has no reason to refuse. I WILL bring her back."

His straightforwardness shook John a little. It was unusual for agents to be so forthcoming like this.

“I tell you, SCP-507-“

“John,” John corrected him.

“John.” The Agent nodded. “I'll make that appeal. If I may brag a smidgen, I believe I have a little more sway with the Council than most Agents do. Now wait here.”

Agent Egrene then walked back to the Council room.

So John waited, twiddling his thumbs.

He closed his exhausted eyes again. For a moment, he relived everything that had just happened. He vowed to keep his eyes open after that.

Every single blink that followed then served the function of bringing the harrowing flashbacks of watching his new closest friend dying in unknowable tortuous pain.

He clutched the pad closely again, shaking. The dams threatened to vanish again. This time, there was no rage to maintain them.

He took a look at the clock and felt his heart shrivel into a tiny sphere when he saw how much time had passed.

Five hours and twenty minutes.

John leapt to his feet and ran to the cafeteria door. He had good memory. He could definitely make his way to the Council.

And do what? Beg?

He walked back to his seat, head lowered, and sat back down.

"Goodbye, Cassy." He caressed the empty pad. "Thanks for keeping me company."

The doors opened loudly, presenting a very satisfied-looking Agent Egrene.

“John." It was the curling at the edges of his lips as well as the way his eyelids were just a tad more relaxed. His temples had also smoothed and no longer showed the bulging vein.

“H-has…?” John saw victory in those eyes.

“It's been approved. Let's go.” He beckoned John to follow him.

They emerged into SCP-318's chamber.

John allowed his wide eyed gaze to wander across the complicated menagerie of mechanisms that adorned it. Endless blocks of woods and metals comprised it's body.

Agent Egrene led John to the machine, where he opened a lid to a small compartment.

Agent Egrene placed Cassy's drawing pad inside, closing the lid with a soft thud. The machine then came to life, lights previously unseen now casting shadows of their form upon the walls.

“Will this

actuall-?” John stuttered breathlessly. “Will this actually work?”

Agent Egrene gave him a response that was incredibly out of character with the persona he has thus shown so far. He smiled and said: “beats me.”

John found that he could return the smile.

Although the saying goes that a watched pot never boils, they ignored that advice and did so anyways. Besides, the flashing lights were fascinating.

It was mostly quiet, however, partway through, voices emanated from it.

“Get us out of here!” John clasped his hands over his mouth. He heard her voice. It was Cassy.

“I know you can, John! I know it!”

John relived it again. The walls crushing them together. The demand for atonement.

The tears started again, but he barely seemed to notice.

SCP-318 then stopped just as quickly as it had started.

“…what now?” John stammered, wiping his eyes.

Agent Egrene slowly went to another box on the machine and opened it. He produced a rather large scroll from it and showed it to John. It was firmly tied with a string. “She's in here now.” He handed it to him.

John took it, dumbfounded. He looked to the scroll, then to Agent Egrene and then back again.

“Is she!?” John quickly tried to pull the string off before Agent Egrene put his hand over his, stopping him.

“Do it in your room, John. Go.”

John, with the new scroll in hand, sprinted back to his private quarters, his grip tight on the doweled parchment. His heart threatened to burst. How many rules were being broken here? Would Agent Egrene be severely punished?

None of this mattered as much as Cassandra.

On his way to his quarters, he saw the room that held Cassy's pad. The door was slightly ajar, so he peeked in like he did before.

There was a drawing pad.

He craned his neck to get a better look. There was a Cassy there. Likely the Cassy of this world.

That's how the appeal went through. This was a different Cassy he befriended. A Cassy that the Council likely deemed unimportant and disposable, therefore they would not have cared if she remained dead or came back.

With a grin, he sprinted to his room and locked the door behind him. He untied the scroll and opened it slowly, his fingers shaking and unsteady. As he unfurled the parchment inch by inch, his eyes were first greeted with some text that was organized somewhat wildly.

Upon unfurling it further, he realized…

It was Cassy, but this time, her body consisted of words.

More importantly, it was Cassy.

“Cassy?!” John overflowed with joy; his head was spinning from it.

Cassy turned to him, the look of surprise portrayed remarkably well in her new art style.

“John?” Her lips moved. Words floated next to her when she spoke.

“Cassy!” He screamed into his palm. The dams did not suddenly vanish this time. No. Cassy had gently removed them for him.

“John!” Cassy wept as well, her tears shown in harsh balls of ink. “I was so scared! I was hugging you and then I was ripped out! It…really hurt. I was erased.” She held herself tightly. John saw that and felt the knot twisting around his heart at his current inability to be those arms.

John's tears fell on the parchment.

“Keep me dry, John.” Cassy covered her smiling mouth. She was giggling. She then held a hand out to him.

The letters on the page became large enough to form the shape of a hand. The words shown were many instances of _John, thank god!_

John wiped the parchment with the blanket from his bed first before placing his hand over hers.

He removed his hand when the view zoomed in on her face. The lines of text flowed smoothly like water.

“Is this real?” she asked. “Am I real?” The message formed near her face.

“Yeah, Cassy.” John laughed a bit. No. He actually laughed quite a lot. “I think it is...you know, I just realized you can hear me."

Cassy had a massive grin on her face. _Smile. Happy. Joyful._

"I didn't think about that. I got so used to your voice, I just..." She trailed off.

John lightly caressed the paper, using just one fingertip.

The view zoomed in on her face, with circles of words flooding her cheeks.

_Blush. Blush. Blush._

“Sit with me like this.” She practically begged.

“Of course,” John grinned. And so he did.

“Is this allowed? Us being here like this?” Cassy sat next to a bed frame of text, matching John's position.

“I think it is.” John thought of Agent Egrene and smiled.

“Don't let go of me. Promise.” Cassy asked.

“I promise.” He held the drawing pad to the parchment. “I think this will be better if you come back to this.”

She nodded and ran to her drawing pad. She immediately returned to her original art style, although with the text-based attachments added to her artistic flourishes.

“Can you still hear me?” John asked.

Cassy nodded. “I can still see you, too.” John saw that she retained her new ability to just speak in text next to her head.

“Now I can keep you with me.” John patted the drawing pad as he sat against the head of the bed and placed Cassy on his lap.

“Are you sure that's allowed?” Her face gave away the anxiety she felt.

“I don't know. I think so. I met an Agent who helped me revive you when I came back.”

“Really, now? Someone did that for you? How? Why?”

“I don't know why…” John looked to the blank white wall of his room, as though he was looking for the answers there. “I don't want to think about that.”

Time passed. And then John shifted. They shifted.

The feeling of being dazed after a shift was the one thing to which he would likely never grow accustomed.

He appeared in an office not unlike the one used by the Council, but with only one desk.

Seated on the other side was Agent Egrene, who looked quite calm yet quite smug, elbows on the table and chin on one hand. The other hand was held closely to him.

John then quickly noticed Cassy sat right beside him. The revival via SCP-318 added a new peculiarity to her; she now had tattoo-like text slipping across her skin similar to the way it flowed on the parchment. She was looking at her tattoos, flexing her fingers and feeling her face in disbelief. She did this until she noticed John. They made eye contact. She grinned an impossible grin that he could not hope to match.

Within seconds, he once again relived everything that had happened. Cassy must have seen the haunted look in his eyes.

That was all instantly expunged when Cassy took his hand. She squeezed and was not too gentle about it. Quite frankly, John found it rather painful.

Neither of them cared.

“Well, well, well, John!” It was Agent Egrene. “What a lovely surprise, just hopping into my office like this. I said I'd get the appeal through.” He gestured to the both of them.

“Appeal?” Cassy interrupted, frowning. Realization then hit her. “You’re the one who saved me."

“I suppose so, yes. I gave you as a gift to him. Your drawing pad, I mean. With you on it.” He chuckled.

“So you gave him me?” Cassy giggled.

“Yes. So to speak.” The Agent smirked.

“I saw the other Cassy,” John blurted without thinking.

"Other...Cassy?” She frowned and tilted her head.

“That's the Cassy of that world. That's the loophole you used to bring this Cassy back.” John squeezed Cassy's hand to calm himself. She squeezed back, even tighter than before.

“And,” John added, “you're not the same Agent Egrene who helped me. When I shift, it's always a different dimension first before I come back to mine. Who are you?

No, what are you?”

“Everywhere.” Agent Egrene stated this as though he expected John to comprehend it. “Leave it at that. I'm the same man who greeted you when you shifted back with a blank drawing pad. You're in a different dimension now, yes, but I'm still that same man.”

“But-"

“No, John. Just leave it at that.” He smiled a tiny smile and gave a small, satisfied, “hm.”

“Thank you.” Cassy's voice shook.

Agent Egrene nodded before continuing: “Ok, time for the ground rules.” He clapped his hands together dramatically.

“So long as you two are together, you will shift together. When you two shift somewhere else, she'll have a physical body. Once you shift back home, she'll be on the drawing pad again. This works because other dimensions do not have to work on the same laws we do.” He leaned back in his chair. "This is one of those."

“And that,” Agent Egrene continued as he pointed to the drawing pad John still held, “as long as you have that, you're in contact with her, ergo, she will always shift with you."

“I'll never lose it,” John quickly added.

“I know you won't.” Agent Egrene reached into a drawer and pulled out flashlights, binoculars, firearms with actual bullets and other miscellaneous tools.

“These are for your own personal use. Cassandra, when you return home with John, your items will be with you in your art form.”

“Is this real?” Cassy asked. John saw a tear silently sliding down her cheek. He wiped it for her.

Agent Egrene smiled. “Yes. This is real.” He stood to his feet. “You have time here. Enjoy it for now. Good day.” He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

“Umm…” Cassy said after some silence.

John looked at her for a moment, a single tear coming from his eye. Cassy, in return, wiped this with her own shaking hand. Compelled by this simple gesture, he stood up and pulled her into a tight hug, which she leapt into with full force, nearly toppling him.

“I still can't believe this. This is real. This is really happening.” Cassy buried her face in John's chest, which heaved in an oddly comforting manner.

“Yeah. It is.” John gently caressed the back of Cassy's head, stroking her hair.

Cassy pulled away a little, but still staying very close to him. "What do you think?" Cassy asked, looking at her tattoos.

"I think they look...nice? I don't know, I wasn't expecting that. Wasn't expecting..." He looked into her eyes again. The words gathered in her cheeks again.

Time passed. They shifted back to his room.

John smiled as he leaned back against his bed and held Cassy's drawing pad on his gut.

She smiled back.


	2. Mushroom-Lit Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Cassy hopped into a dark forest lit by bio-luminescent, translucent white mushrooms. A canopy of darkness hangs low in the air, obscuring the view of any potential sky. 
> 
> John has major PTSD from the meadow and tries to cope with it as they walk through this environment together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I'm now continuing this as a fan-fiction series purely for self-indulgence and to feel good. This AU is extremely reliant on cheesy, feel good romantic moments and shamelessly copious amounts of Deus Ex Machina. 
> 
> This quarantine and cabin fever are driving me nuts and I want to write happy stuff and keep positive. 
> 
> Also, for whoever stumbled upon this overly happy-sappy story and decided to keep reading, I hope you know that you're beautiful and that your new haircut is sexy as hell and your plaid button-up shirt is incredibly stylish.

“Well. I mean. It could be worse.” John and Cassy sat on the extended portion of a particularly chunky tree root that half-jutted from the soil. Bio-luminescent white mushrooms served as the fungal lanterns that provided their only natural light source in a near pitch-black, silent forest. They could not see that far up the trees, as a canopy of darkness prevented them from seeing any possible canopy of leaves.

John wore casual clothes alongside a reasonably-sized backpack and a holster for his newly issued pistol; this one actually had metal bullets. Cassy sat next to him, still wearing that body armor she had from her ‘failed’ universe.

“Yeah. It’s real pretty, though.” She remarked, eyeing a large mushroom. It was translucent; individual strands of mycelia were visible through their membrane.

“Yeah. I guess.” John shrugged. He turned to look at his drawn-to-life friend. He saw the words that formed on her cheeks.

_Intrigue. Curiosity. Apprehension._

“I still really like how those words always either say how you’re feeling or what you’re thinking.” John gave Cassy’s hand a squeeze.

She squeezed back.

“I kind of do, but…” Cassy looked away.

“But?” Squeeze.

“Nothing.” Squeeze.

“But?” Squeeze. Despite the angle, John could see the letters slide and re-arrange themselves into new words.

_Hug. Peacefulness. Serenity._

“...What if they say something embarassing?” _Blush. Blush. Blush._

Squeeze.

“Like what, blush?” John elbowed her playfully. The body armor absorbed most of the blow, though John still went softly despite that. His smiled faded a little whenever he looked at that armor. Every time he looked at it, it always reminded him of that failed universe. Even despite it all, he still saw the death canvas. She died once. What was to stop her from dying again? He had no control over the dimension-hopping. Egrene had gifted them with actual equipment, yes, but—

_I know you can!_

“Stop telling me it says blush every time I blush!” Cassy turned to slap him playfully, or hit him, or something, but then she saw the haunted look on his face.

John was shaking and failed to realize that he was squeezing Cassy’s hand with increasing force.

“John?” Cassy whispered. His grip was starting to hurt. _Pain. Concern. Friend. Hug._

John snapped out of it. “S-sorry. I just—” He unconsciously pressed the drawing pad in his pocket with his free hand.

Cassy saw the small gesture and instantly understood. “I’m alive.” She whispered. _Hug. Comfort. Hug._

“That body armor keeps reminding me of—“ His voice caught in his throat.

“Do you want me to stop wearing it?” Cassy edged closer to him. “You could draw me more clothing. Or maybe a different kind of armor.”

“No. I can’t draw.” John chuckled.

“Maybe you could write it down? Maybe I could so something with that. I have a way with words now.” Cassy giggled.

“Yeah, you sure do.” John teased her, barely batting away the memories that roamed the edges of his mind like a memory revenant.

John looked at Cassy’s face, her pale skin dimly lit by the mushrooms. She smiled reassuringly at him. _Hug._

“So. Uh. I want…” John struggled to find the words.

“You want…?” Cassy’s eyes widened eagerly.

“...Can you read what’s on your cheeks?” John looked to the floor.

“Yeah.” Cassy scooted closer and firmly wrapped her arms around him. He hugged back. Tightly. Cassy tuned her listening in to the quiet breathing of her trembling friend.

John was tuned in to the silent screams he saw right before his closest friend was torn to shreds in unknowable agony. He still trembled.

Cassy noticed this.

“How about we walk?” Cassy pulled away and stood up. She offered him a hand.

“Y-yeah. I think that sounds great.” John stood up took the offered hand.

It was no peaceful meadow, but he found the silence somewhat soothing. Aside from themselves, the trees and the mushrooms, this forest seemed completely and utterly devoid of all life. It was quiet and peaceful. There wasn’t even a single gust of wind to rustle the leaves, if there were any. Not even leaves on the ground to crunch beneath their feet. Even the grass refused to rustle from their steps.

Cassy was enthralled by the sights, frequently touching John and staring at her own hands and fingers; it seemed as though she would never grow accustomed to this physical body that she so loved.

Despite the soothing nature of such a locale, John saw too many parallels between this forest and that meadow. His heart rate increased as they walked. His breathing quickened. Fight or flight had kicked in. He undid the strap on the holster of his gun, drawing it.

“That mushroom’s real pretty.” Cassy grinned. That grin vanished when she felt John take his hand out of hers. She saw him hold his gun at the ready. There was no immediate threat; not even a subtle drop in temperature in either the air or the blood to signify danger. Cassy heard a click, which let her know that he dropped the safety.

“John…?” She whispered. Her voice croaked at the end.

John didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t care. He didn’t trust this environment. He’d never trust anywhere ever again besides the safety of his own room.

“I can’t let my guard down, Cassy. We don’t know if we’re safe here.” John’s eyes glowed with panic and fury.

“John...please put it down. I’m alive. I’m okay. I’m here.” Cassy hugged him around the shoulders. “Just put it back in the holster, John.”

A singular tear welled in his eye; it slowly slid down his cheek and to the tip of his chin.

“John.” Cassy put a shaking hand on the top of the gun, lowering it. “There’s nobody here. It’s just us.”

“How long will that last?” John whimpered, allowing Cassy to move his hand down.

“Just put the gun away, John.” She wiped his tear away.

John complied. He switched the safety back off and slipped it back into his holster. He, however, left it unstrapped.

“Whatever happens, happens, John. We get to be together now.” She tightened her embrace. “Let’s just keep walking. Okay?”

John nodded and let Cassy take the lead.

They walked for a time, John staying quiet for most of it. Cassy was enjoying the sights to no end, but her friend’s PTSD was dampening the mood a smidgen. This, however, did not stop her unwavering support.

“What do you want to do when we get back?” Cassy asked him just to distract him.

“Hug your drawing pad really close to me…” John shook his head. “No. I might just leave you in my room.”

“What? Why?” Cassy asked, outraged.

“So I don’t lose you again.” John looked her full in the eyes.

Cassy saw the glare of a bright mushroom reflected from John’s eyes. To her, this made him look ghostly. This environment was wearing on him. Despite how different it was in sight, the similarity in feel was eating him alive.

John’s gaze drifted to Cassy’s cheeks. _Keep me with you. Please. Don’t leave me behind._

He softened at those words.

“You...were pretty lonely before we met, huh?” John asked.

Cassy nodded. “They tried to tell me I was the last human in an apocalypse and I had to find other survivors. One of them accidentally put my case file next to the pad. I got curious and looked.” She gave him a sad look.

“Did anybody try talking to you after that?”

“Yeah. It didn’t help. At all.” She laughed. “I felt something in the air the day that black thing came. I got really scared and you helped pull me away from it all, at least for a little bit. It hurt when it killed me, but I was happy I got to talk to someone. In person. And touch them.” Her smile warmed John to the very core.

“W-wow. Cassy…” John’s fear melted away at once. “That’s—“

“Keep this with you, John.” She patted the pad in his pocket.

John nodded and they continued.

He felt his confidence renew, at least just a little. The fight or flight instinct still ate at him, but now, he felt as though it was manageable. They had guns. They had—

“Flashlights. You know, I forgot we had these.” John dropped his backpack to the ground and withdrew them.

“You know. Me too.” Cassy took her own flashlight from her body armor. She turned it off and shined it in the distance.

The light from the torch revealed furry beasts with infinite legs; some were attached to each other, while others seemed to have slowly drifted into existence from an invisible void. Their bodies were covered in mouths and teeth. They all had two humanoid arms with five fingers each; each fingertip had a bulging, dripping eye. The fluids made no sounds because they didn’t drip downwards; they dripped upwards into the canopy.

“J-john?” Cassy took his hand. She kept her flashlight trained on them.

John dropped his own flashlight before he even had the chance to turn it on. He said nothing at first. He felt nothing at first, but then it all closed in on him all at once. “No.” John’s veins froze into a solidified, circulatory-system shaped chunk of ice. “No. No, no, no.”

The beasts’ covers were blown. They didn’t know what the beasts had been waiting for the entire time they were there, but they didn’t care.

They slowly inched forward, their eyes completely trained on them.

“I’m happy we could hold hands again, John.” Cassy’s voice quivered. “I’m sorry.”

John hugged Cassy incredibly tightly. He didn’t bother trying the guns. There were too many, and they didn’t look like the mortal, dying type.

“John. You’re gonna hate me and you’re gonna hate me so much.” Cassy whispered into his ear. “Please. Get us out of here.” She hugged him back.

John relived it all. He relived every second of that meadow and those invisible walls in a matter of a few seconds.

John closed his eyes.

“I forgive you if you can’t. Thank you for being my friend.” Cassy rubbed her cheek against his and closed her eyes. She cried.

John couldn’t hear the beasts getting closer, but he felt it. Their very movements and intent were tangible; he could feel their legs passing through the trees as though they were nothing. He felt their fingertips quietly clack together with every other step.

John then heard unintelligible whispers. Somehow, these whispers cleared his panic, washing it away in a tidal wave of the welcome unknown.

He felt a warmth sprout in his chest. He instinctively grabbed this warmth, willing it to surround both him and Cassy.

He thought of just one singular word.

_Home._

#

They were in his room, tightly entangled in each other’s arms. Cassy was still weeping, her entire body wracked with tremors. She awaited her second demise, acceptance deep in her heart.

The demise from which John had saved her.

He looked at the plain walls of his room in stunned disbelief. Then he laughed. He laughed, and he laughed loudly.

Cassy opened her eyes. She, too, saw the plain walls. She, too, was in stunned disbelief.

And she, too, laughed. Loudly.

“John!” She took his cheeks in her hands. “You—“ She looked down and giggled in relief. “You—“ She had to catch her breath. “I told you you could do it! I told—“

And then she noticed. She wasn’t in her pad. She wasn’t in her world of art and text. She was there with him.

He noticed it too. “Cassy. You’re…” He looked her up and down, mouth agape. “You’re here. With me. In my room.”

“I am.” Cassy looked at him in stunned silence. “I’m here. I’m really here.”

There was a knock on the door. “John?”

John recognized that voice.

“Please open the door, John. I must log your return.”

John practically tore the door off of its hinges, greeting Agent Egrene with the happiest look that the Foundation member had ever seen.

“Egrene!” John yelled.

“Happy to see you back.” Agent Egrene smiled and nodded. He then noticed Cassy standing slightly behind him. He gave her a slightly frown of confusion.

She gave him a small wave.

“Cassandra? Out of your drawing pad? In the flesh?” Agent Egrene smiled.

“I can control it now. I willed us back here and it worked.” John’s smile of victory gave Agent Egrene satisfaction.

“Can you, now? Well. Meet me in my office. Both of you.” Agent Egrene winked and walked away.

John took Cassy’s hand.

#

Agent Egrene sat at his desk in his usual smug, elbow-on-table, chin-on-hand position when John and Cassy hopped into his room.

“Ah. Just in time.” He gave the two of them a smile. “Time for the scheduled report. Tell me everything.”

“We were in a dark forest with glowing mushrooms. It was really quiet…”

John gave the rest of his story to Agent Egrene.

“Hairy beasts with endless legs and eyes on each fingertip…” Agent Egrene typed this down on his computer. “And you say you heard whispering?”

“Yeah.” John nodded.

“What did it sound like?” John noticed that Agent Egrene did not ask what it said. For some odd reason, this stood out to John.

“It sounded like…” John pondered for a moment. “A growl. A guttural noise deep from the throat.” John frowned. “It wasn’t human.”

“I see.” Agent Egrene’s face was blank. “Did it seem malicious?”

“No. It seemed like...this is gonna sound strange. It sounded like it liked us. Felt like a friend.” John vividly remembered it. The warmth, the feeling of empowerment.

“Do you know what it said?”

John shook his head.

“I see. Well. I suppose I’ll have to launch an investigation on that as well.” Agent Egrene typed more on his keyboard.

“Speaking of which,” John added, “a-about…”

Cassy held his hand in encouragement. Squeeze.

“What...what’s going on with your other investigation? On those...black figures?” John stammered.

“I believe I have a lead on those.” Agent Egrene nodded. “You have control over your ability now. Should you ever encounter them again, just come here.”

“In your office?” John asked incredulously. “Is it safe?”

“I’d wager, yes.” Agent Egrene nodded.

“We really appreciate this, but I’m confused,” Cassy interjected.

“About?”

“Why are you going so out of your way to help us?” Cassy asked.

“Research purposes,” was Agent Egrene’s only reason, “that’s all. Leave it at that.” He then stood to his feet. “I have business to attend to. Enjoy your down time, you two.” He nodded to both of them and left the office.

#

John and Cassy sat next to each other on his bed, both of them eyeing the drawing pad.

“I’m happy to be here, but I almost miss being in there.” She tapped the pad.

John looked at the pad and tapped it with her. He stared absent-mindedly at the blank page. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in such a long time. Such a feeling was foreign to him. His ‘curse’ was no longer a curse; it was a power now.

The flashbacks of the meadow would likely never end, but now he could bare them. He could hop on command now. Danger was now simply a matter of ambush. Barring that, he could keep Cassy safe.

He smiled.

“I have an idea,” said Cassy, her face lighting up.

“Yeah?” John muttered, looking at her.

“Come to my place.” She gave him a playful grin.

“You mean…?” He glanced at the pad.

She nodded.


	3. Text and Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Cassy go into the drawing pad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The self-indulgence really shows in this chapter. I fully admit that is corny as hell. I feel no shame whatsoever. 
> 
> Also, if you read Chapter 1 and 2 and got invested enough to read Chapter 3, I just want to tell you that you're a sweet sugary cupcake who deserves to be covered in delicious sprinkles. 
> 
> If you hate how corny this is...well, everybody's entitled to their opinion and I still think you're a delicious muffin baked fresh from a high quality oven.

“Into the drawing pad?” John asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Into my old home, yeah.” Cassy’s cheeks flushed with red ink.

_Come home with me._

John’s own face flushed with red, just not ink.

Not yet.

Cassy took his hand. “Come on! It’ll be fun! The old me couldn’t really do much, but now that we can play with words, we should. Come on. Hop us in there.” She jerked her head playfully to the drawing pad.

John couldn’t quite find the words for either acceptance or denial. He had pulled Cassy out of her home before, yes, and he had done it again; she was sitting beside him, after all. But to put her back in? As well as go in there with her?

“Why not?” He concluded without really thinking about it. John put a hand on the drawing pad. He then turned back to Cassy. “So, what should I expect?”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Cassy perked up. “You should expect...expect…” Cassy pondered it for a moment. She shook her head. It would be better if she just showed him. “Just pull us in, come on. Let me show you the ropes.”

“Okay.”

#

White. White as far as the eye could see. He had no muscle nor did he have bone; he was ink. He lost his balance and fell to the floor. Actually, no. No, he didn’t. He was flowing.

He was ink. He was letters; they spelled John repeatedly, and he could tell that they did, but he wasn’t quite sure how. SCP-507 was intermingled with his name.

He hated that designation. Codes or designations of any kind detracted from the humanity and respect that a human deserved. 

_John?_

He could tell that this word did not come from him. Also it had a question mark next to it. John turned—erroneous as that term may be—around and saw Cassy. ‘Saw’ was also erroneous.

He _felt_ her. Sensed her.

Words drifted closer to him. _Cassandra. SCP-85. Clinical depression. Hope. Thanks for being my friend. Thanks for taking me with you._

_Thank you for saving me._

“I didn’t save you,” John’s words drifted from his intangible form and gently bombarded Cassandra’s print-body, which communicated his pure intent directly to her art-bound psyche. “Agent Egrene did.”

“He saved my body. You kept your promise to take me places.” Cassandra responded. “You basically saved me. You can’t convince me otherwise, John.”

_Arms. Arms. Embrace._

These words drifted from Cassandra and intermingled with John’s incorporeal, text-based ‘body.’ They firmly wrapped themselves around his waist.

She hugged him like the old friend that he was quickly becoming.

Words drifted from her form and encircled the two of them, a light current that was not dissimilar to the caress of a flowing, ankle-deep stream of water.

And it was all around him. All around them.

John, in turn, encircled his own written essence around Cassy. “How is this possible?” John asked. “I’ve never hopped into a world like this before.” 

Cassy’s face was just inches from his. Her eyes were represented with the capital O on both sides. There was no color to her cheeks. Only words.

_Love you._

“I don’t know. I’m not the drawing pad. I’m Cassandra, the drawn woman. How did that machine bring me back? I was completely erased. And why did it add words into my art form? This is the Foundation, John. Nothing makes sense.” The O’s on Cassandra’s face closed into em dashes and she pulled his face closer.

Two bodies of text, symbols and hand-drawn shading merged together, encapsulated by the artistic flares and flourishes of whoever originally created Cassandra, designated SCP-85. This was her home, once devoid of any and all life except for the ink-based woman who accidentally learned of her own existence by stumbling into her case file.

The Soul Press, designated SCP-318, had changed small parts of her nature, but regardless, she was sharing—no, she was giving half of it—her home with John.

He pulled away, breathing heavily. No. Not breathing. Shaking? No. Words didn’t shake, and neither did art.

“C-cassy...” For the first time, John’s cheeks showed a _blush blush blush._

Cassy smiled. “Thanks for visiting.” She then looked down.

_Fear. Fear. Fear. Anxiety. Worry._

“Cassy?” John asked. His words drifted slightly below to get her attention.

“Sorry.” She said. She made a gesture that John assumed was her head shaking. “There’s another Cassy here, right? That’s the Cassy of ‘this’ world...well...’that’ world. Your Foundation. Mine’s gone. It was taken by that black thing, I think...”

“What are you trying to say?” John’s arm letters fell over Cassy’s head letters; he was caressing her.

“I was meant to die there. Egrene broke so many rules, it’s insane. That Cassy is the ‘right’ Cassy...am I even the same Cassy that died? I have the memories. I remember being crushed. I remember screaming and being squeezed so tightly, I couldn’t breath. I remember the first time I breathed.” Cassy rested her head against John’s shoulder. He cradled her. He was growing more accustomed to this form. He was even starting to like it. Skin was much too restrictive in communicating emotions.

“Please don’t think about that.” John told her. He meant this as a whisper, but volume didn’t exist here. “You’re alive. You’re here. Focus on that.”

“The universe I’m from was a ‘failed’ one, right? Egrene gave us a few details, but he wouldn’t say anymore. He says he’s ‘everywhere,’ but I don’t understand. Is he even part of the Foundation? Is he an SCP?”

_Shocked. Stunned. Epiphany?_

John had never even considered that. No other Agent that ever interacted with John beforehand had ever displayed this much authority or power over the Foundation. Or empathy. Egrene was not natural.

“Do you trust him?” Cassy asked him as she brought his face close again. She rested her forehead on his.

“Yeah. I think.” John responded with only a smidgen of hesitation. “He brought you back. It’s weird, I know, but every time I look in his eyes, I see something that makes me think he means it. He means it when he sees he’ll do something for you. Every other agent or researcher or whatever never meant it. It was all pure business. But Egrene?” John shook his head. “He’s different. I...like him. I think he’s genuine.”

“Ok.” Cassy smiled. “Let’s stay like this a little longer. Okay?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

_Love you, too._


	4. Shadow On the Rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassy wants to feel the sunlight again, so John takes her to a place where she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To this day, I still have no intent to continue this fan fiction. Well. I enjoy it. Shamelessly. Might as well indulge.

“I want to see the sun again,” said Cassy, who had her head on John’s shoulder. They sat at the head of the bed together, their backs against the wall. “Feeling it for the first time was the greatest feeling I ever had. I always wondered what wind felt like.”

“It was crazy for me too, you know.” John leaned his own head over Cassy’s. He enjoyed the way her hair tickled his inner ear. Her should rose and fell with each breath, which he quite enjoyed. “I never got used to hopping when I couldn’t control it.”

“Have you ever tried before?” Cassy asked before she remembered the meadow. She felt a slight tension from John when she asked. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok, Cass. That’s behind us.” John chuckled.

“Ok.” Cassy wasn’t fooled by his attempt to brush it off.

She jumped to her feet and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Sunlight. Let’s go see it. Know any good places?” She smiled.

“I know a lot of places,” he winked and grinned. “I know…” His grin vanished when he remembered the cage suspended over the dead bodies. Then he remembered the dimension where the wolf-life humanoids tried to consume him after they fed him calorie-rich meat. He frowned a little as he remembered the perfect world with that one perfect woman. He shook his head and forced that out of his mind.

He had Cassy now. That world meant nothing to him.

“Nothing?” Cassy asked playfully.

“I kind of want to try…” He wracked his brain. “I’ve been a lot of hellish places, Cass. I’m actually not sure where I want to go.”

“...would you be okay with—“ No, John would absolutely NOT be okay with that meadow again. “Nevermind.”

“With where?” John asked, his eyes lighting with eagerness.

“No, not there. Okay. Do you have to think of someplace in specific, or can you just hop somewhere? You were able to just hop to any dimension when you couldn’t control it, but can you just...I don’t know, flip dimensions like a book and find a random page?” Cassy knew this sounded silly, but she asked anyways. As safe as it was here, she was starting to get cabin fever.

“You want me to just hop somewhere? Anywhere?”

“Can you?” Cassy raised an eyebrow.

“I guess I can try.” John stood up and took Cassy’s hand. He couldn’t really think of any other method, so he just had one simple thought.

_Hop._

#

A canyon, be it grand or not. The sun was bright and harsh, but not unwelcome. A pleasant breeze caressed the two SCPs, which served to dull the heat on this cloudless day.

“Wow, you did it, John!” Cassy shielded her eyes from the midday glare and gazed into the distance. “This is beautiful. This is amazing.”

They stood near the edge of the canyon that lead to steep drop off to a crystal clear lake at the bottom. Cassy walked a little closer to get a better look.

John grabbed her roughly by the wrist and pulled her back.

“Ow!” Cassy said as she stumbled back and shot him a look of surprise.

A twinge of guilt shot through his heart. “I-i’m sorry. I just, I’m...please don’t stand too close to the ledge.” He let go of her wrist, looked down and kicked the dirt. “I’ve been to a place like this before. Might even be the same. I stood close to the ledge to get a better look. I fell and almost died, but then I hopped back into my home dimension and landed in a lake.”

“Oh.” Cassy walked closer and took his hand. “Well, let’s walk.” She flashed him a smile that was slightly cast in shadow by the intensity of the sun that hung in the horizon. “I’ll be careful. I promise. I’ll stay away from the ledge.” And so she took him by the hand and walked with a child-like eagerness.

To his chagrin, she still wore the body armor. The only time she had taken it off was when they went into the drawing pad. Apparently, it was a tad too restrictive when you were in flowing letters and ink, but not so when you were in a restrictive physical body.

John suddenly found himself wanting to go back there.

“Can we go back?” John asked, which made Cassy turn around and cock a single eyebrow at him. “Into your drawing pad? I...really liked it there.” If John’s face had text, it would likely say _blush._

“We can go back whenever.” said Cassy. “It’s our home now.”

_Our home._

John’s blush deepened. “I a-appreciate that. That’s sweet.”

“You’re sweet.” She pulled him along and they continued on their walk. Their path was surprisingly smooth; no more steep drop-offs or jagged edges. The sun was slowly setting over this serene and peaceful environment. Even with as much time as they now spent together, as SCPs, they’d likely never grow accustomed to this feeling of peace.

“What’s the scariest world you’ve been to?” Cassy asked.

Bad move again. She felt John’s hand tense up and saw his body do the same.

“I-it was definitely that mushroom forest,” John nodded quickly.

“Don’t think you can ever forget about the meadow?” Cassy asked quietly.

Worse move.

John locked his arms around Cassy, who hugged him back.

“Ok. Better question. Prettiest world you’ve been to?” She asked him.

“The drawing pad,” he whispered into her hair.

This made her feel good.

“I know you probably don’t want to, but can we sit down at the ledge?” Cassy whispered into his ear. “You can bring us home if we fall. I trust you.”

“Yeah.”

They broke the embrace and sat by a ledge; John made sure he picked one that looked particularly sturdy. They edged close together and held hands, shielding their eyes with the other.

“I really like this, but I’m going blind.” Cassy giggled.

“I’m just glad it’s not humid,” said John. “I’m already sweating and that would have made it worse.”

The sun’s glare was exceedingly harsh; they turned to look at each other, each with one eye closed from the brilliance. It looked like they were frozen in a permanent wink.

Beside these two, their shadows were cast upon the ground, melting into each other. They grew until they became a portrait on a massive wall of rock behind them. It was like a drawing.

_Love you._

“Love you, too, Cass.”

The ink on her face turned into an impossibly bright shade of red.

Her grin vanished when their ledge cracked. It rocked downwards and stopped, which caused the two of them to slip a little.

They made eye contact.

John reacted before Cassy even voiced the request. Never again would he ever have to hear, “I know you can!”

Because he knew it too.

#

Home.

“Home.” John said as he tried to settle his racing heart.

“Y-yeah…” Cassy muttered breathlessly.

They still held hands.

“Can we go back into your pad now?” John asked sheepishly.

“Yeah. Sure.”


	5. Immortalized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Egrene finds John and Cassy have come back at an incredibly old age. He decides to break a few more rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As good of an escape as this little fan fiction was, (from quarantine, COVID-19 garbage, and insane cabin fever) I think I'll just post this here and move on. 
> 
> This is the first draft and I have no intent on editing this to be any smoother. I still don't expect this to take off in the slightest, but I feel that I owe these characters a conclusion that I can be satisfied with. 
> 
> Well, to the people who actually sat through this overly sappy, Deus Ex Machina-filled cheese fest...
> 
> Y'all are gorgeous little slices of pizza and I'd gladly sprinkle parmesan cheese all over you and savor every little bite. 
> 
> Stay sexy.

Agent Egrene stood up from his desk and made his way to John’s private quarters. It had been about two weeks since his last dimensional shift. Even though he had control, for some reason, the time period remained the same as when he had no control.

Force of habit, perhaps? Or perhaps it was simply due to the relativity of time. Either way, he should be back by now. Agent Egrene went to John’s door and knocked.

“John? Are you back yet?”

No answer. Perhaps he wasn’t. Agent Egrene put his hands in his pockets and strode back to his office. SCP-85’s room was on the way to his office; he passed by it when he noticed something was amiss.

He did a double take a checked. The door was ever so slightly ajar. He pushed the door opened and stepped into a dimly lit room to see two elderly individuals hunched over SCP-85’s drawing pad.

“Who are you?” Agent Egrene shouted. He unstrapped the holster to his side arm and firmly wrapped his hands around the grip off the gun, but he made sure to keep the finger away from the trigger, just in case this was a simple mistake. The pair quickly turned around and put their hands in the air.

“Egrene! Wait! It’s us!” The woman croaked through her ancient throat.

He recognized the body armor and the flowing text immediately.

“Cassandra?” Agent Egrene relaxed. He then saw the old man. Despite the age and the grayed hair, he still distinctly recognized it as John. “John?”

“Yep. Didn’t expect to see us return as geezers, did you?” John laughed before he wheezed and fell into a coughing fit.

Agent Egrene rushed over to his side to support his ailing friend. “It’s only been two weeks here! How long have you two been gone?”

“Didn’t you say you were everywhere?” John playfully jabbed at him with his elbow. There a crack and he held his arm close. Clearly, old age did not remove any of his spirit.

“I meant in the Foundation, John. I can’t follow you around unless you take me with you. I’m not omnipotent. Tell me how long it’s been so I can log it.” Agent Egrene helped John to a nearby seat. He was so ancient by now, that it was a miracle he still had it in him to walk.

Cassy took a seat next to him.

“Are you still able to hop, John? Do you have it in you to come to my office?” Asked Agent Egrene as he knelt down beside him.

“Of course! That doesn’t take much,” said John, “but I want to go to my room instead.”

“I suppose that’s fine.”

“But I want to walk there.” John practically demanded.

“Are you quite sure?”

“Yes!”

#

Agent Egrene trailed beside John and Cassy as they slowly dragged their feet down the halls of the Foundation.

“In the two week time span that you two were gone, you hop back and you’re old enough to be at death’s door. I need to know where you two went.” Agent Egrene stood close to the both of them, but more towards John. His steps were less steady than Cassy’s.

“Would you be upset if I told you that we decided to just keep journeying and not come back?” John asked with a wry, wrinkly smile.

“To the point where you come back so old? How did you two stay fed and clean? Did you just go to civilian locales and integrate whenever possible?” Asked Agent Egrene.

“Something like that,” asked Cassy. She, too, gave him a wry smile.

“Still wearing the same clothing?”

“We stayed clean.” Cassy laughed.

“Very well…” Agent Egrene frowned a little. “May I ask what you were doing in your old room, Cassandra?”

“Just seeing what I used to look like.” Cassy responded. “I used to look so young. I didn’t age in there. You knew that, Egrene.” This was a statement, not a question.

“Well, yes, we figured as such. I also figured that being tied to a physical body would also age you, but to see it happen so soon. At least from my side.” He shook his head and smiled.

They reached John’s room. Agent Egrene opened the door for them and stood aside to allow them entry. John and Cassy went in and sat side by side together.

“Are you going to tell me anything about the specifics of where you went?” Asked Agent Egrene, who stood at the door frame.

“We already did,” said the significantly older John.

“I’m going to need to know more, John.” Agent Egrene gently insisted. “It’s for the sake of the report. You know how it is.”

“Can we at least have a day to relax first? We’ve been through a lot, you see.” said Cassy. She leaned her head against John’s shoulder.

Agent Egrene looked at the two of them for a brief moment. “...very well. A day’s rest. I’ll tell them that you two were to exhausted to talk when you came back. See you tomorrow.” He nodded closed the door. His footsteps echoed down the hallway and gradually grew quieter before silencing completely.

John and Cassy lay next to each other in bed, hand in hand.

“Did you see the look on his face?” John laughed. He broke into another coughing fit.

“I sure did,” Cassy grinned up at the ceiling. She gently squeezed John’s hand, unable to go as tightly as she used to.

“He’s totally on our side. So many rules broken, just for us,” whispered John, “when I came back here after I saw you get killed, I thought I’d be alone forever. He changed that without a second thought. Even went straight to the Council.”

“Do you think he’ll ever tell us who he is?” Cassy wondered.

“He told us the first day he brought you back. He’s everywhere, that’s what he is.”

“Oh, John.”

They both spent the last minutes of their lives together holding hands in bed; a luxury that no other SCPs were ever allowed.

“I still think he’s an SCP,” Cassy whispered, feeling her last ounce of life slowly trailing out of her body. She stared at her arm and saw that her flowing ink was slowing down.

“I think you’re an SCP...” John turned his head to look at her.

“Shut up, John…” Cassy turned her head to look at him.

They grinned at each other, their last breaths intertwined in the small space between their faces.

#

“John? Cassandra?” Agent Egrene knocked on their door. No answer. He knocked again. Silence. He had no desires to be rude, but it had been a full day. He tried the door knob. It was locked. He knocked again. “I apologize, but I will be forced to enter if I receive no response.” Nothing. He took out a key ring and unlocked their door. He gently pushed it open.

“John? Cassy?” He looked to their bed and saw them both fast asleep. He allowed himself to smile at them. There wasn’t a single day that went by where he didn’t feel joy at the happiness he had brought to two lonely individuals.

He even stifled a bit of his old anger that he felt when he remembered the decision that the Council had made to allow the Atonement entity to enact destruction upon any and all SCPs. Oh, how that backfired.

He went over to John and Cassy and tried to shake them awake.

“John. Cassandra.” He grinned as he put a hand on them and shook them. They were cold to the touch, and they weren’t breathing.

Agent Egrene’s smile vanished. He knew that they would grow old and die, just as any organic being did, but at the same time, he never truly focused on that aspect. He broke a good deal of rules to grant happiness to two individuals for which he felt a great deal of sympathy.

He did not weep, but he knew he’d miss them. He closed their eyes for them and had a moment of silence for the two SCPs that were spared from the greatest sorrow that no good-hearted man or woman should ever suffer: being alone.

He then had an idea.

He stepped out of the room and gently closed the door behind him. He locked it and went to the morgue. He retrieved two body bags and returned to their room. He unlocked the door again and placed their bodies in the body bags.

And then he made his way to SCP-318.

#

Oh, how the Council would have his head on a silver platter after this. This did not matter to him. He’d survive this. He always did. After all, this universe was so far split from the ‘main’ one, he had more sway here than he did there.

Agent Egrene took the drawing pad out of John’s pocket before he opened the ‘insert’ compartment of SCP-318 and placed the body inside. He then squeezed Cassy’s body inside. Considering how skinny they both were, the fit was incredibly snug. He jammed the lid shut and hoped that his idea would work.

His heart leapt with satisfaction when he saw the lights appear; the machine was going to work. Agent Egrene achieved his life’s dream then. He had eased the suffering that the multiverse was much too keen on providing to the anomalous, even if this wasn’t much. A side universe or not, Agent Egrene could not have felt any more joy.

Around the two or three minute mark, instead of hearing the voices that normally accompanied this machine, he saw text floating out of the compartment.

_Hug. Hug. Embrace. Comfort. Love you._

Agent Egrene the bore witness to something that would forever sit in his mind; he witnessed the lines of text slowly form into the outlines of two people—one male, one female—and tightly embrace each other. They eyed each other closely, their faces so very close to each other.

He beamed with pride. They’d have his ass for sure, but still, he beamed with pride. Besides. He could make a convincing appeal afterwards. He always did.

When the lights stopped, he took the doweled parchment from the other compartment and went to his office.

He unfurled the scroll. Two living pieces of art looked around in their new environment before they quickly saw each other and hugged one another; old friends.

“Hello, John and Cassandra. Fancy of you two to step into my office.” Agent Egrene’s grin was wider than he had ever allowed himself before.

They both turned to face him, their bodies of art and text perfectly portraying shock and surprise. They were still holding hands.

“Egrene?” Lines of text formed near Cassy’s head. “You brought me back again? How?”

“Me, too!” John exclaimed.

“Well. Cassandra died once in her art form. SCP-318 brought her back in her art form. That was one revive. She died a second time in a physical body, thus allowing a second revive. That’s my idea, at least.” Agent Egrene explained. “To be fair, I wasn’t sure if my idea would work, but lo and behold. You two are here.”

“But what about me?” asked John. “How am I here? Did you put us both in?”

“Yes,” Agent Egrene nodded. “I have an idea, but only if you can confirm something for me. Did you go into Cassandra’s world at any point in time?”

John scratched the back of his head with he free hand and looked down sheepishly. “Well. Yeah.”

“I believe SCP-318 may have recognized this and deemed you of a similar enough nature to Cassandra after that.” Agent Egrene concluded.

“But that makes no sense!”

“We study anomalies and contain them here, John. Even we don’t fully understand all the inner machinations of every anomalous activity that we find.” Agent Egrene smiled. “That said, what say you to this new form? Are you able to hop out of there?”

“Um…” John furrowed his brow in concentration, yet he remained as he was. “It doesn’t seem like it.”

“Interesting. So you’re now bound to the realm of art alongside Cassandra. Fitting, isn’t it? Once together to freely explore dimensions, now stuck to the same fate that Cassandra has; a work of art.” said Agent Egrene.

“Are you...okay with this, John?” Cassy hugged his arm.

“Is this allowed?” John asked Agent Egrene as he stroked Cassy’s hair.

“Let me worry about that.” Agent Egrene concluded.

“Why, though?” John shook his head. “We’re extremely grateful, but why? Why all the good deeds for two SCPs? We’re ‘wrong.’ Our existence wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I was supposed to die there, wasn’t I?” Cassy asked. There was a subtle movement to her hand-drawn strokes when she said this; she tightened her hold on John’s arm.

“Because when John came back without you, I saw a broken man. The Foundation does its fair share of breaking people. I wanted to change that, even if only a little.” Agent Egrene whispered softly.

“Are you an SCP?” asked Cassy.

They couldn’t believe what they saw next. Agent Egrene leaned back against his chair and laughed. No. He guffawed at this allegation.

“No,” he replied as he caught his breath, “I’m not an SCP.” He then sat back and clapped his hands dramatically, just the same as he always does whenever he comes down to business.

“You two will be marked as an unregistered Safe-class SCP. I’ll have to keep you in my drawer for now, but rest assured, I’ll keep you two updated on current events.” He brought the old drawing pad and laid it down next to them. “Why don’t you two come back in here?”

They nodded gratefully and stepped to the drawing pad.

“Wait!” John called to Agent Egrene, who was just about to place them in his desk drawer.

“Yes?”

“What about the other Cassy?” John asked.

“She is completely unrelated and unaware of everything that has transpired outside of her drawing pad as well as her room. Why do you ask?” Agent Egrene placed them back on his desk.

“Cassy here was pretty lonely before everything. Do you think you could do anything for that Cassy?” John suggested.

Agent Egrene shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” asked Cassy. She had a sad look on her face.

“Because I only have so much sway. I can do nothing for that Cassy. You two truly are a special case. I must go now, you two.” He said nothing and quickly placed them within his desk drawer.

#

John and Cassy looked at each other. Even after all these years, he never once moved on from the black entity that once took Cassy away.

To this day, she could see the haunted look in his eyes whenever he showed it.

He was showing it now.

Cassy made sure to wipe it away by caressing him with a few lines of text.

_Love you._

John grinned.

_Love you, too._


End file.
